Keep Rising Up Again

Something nudges his arm. He glances down and there she is, flat on her back beside you, one arm tucked under her head, looking completely at peace with herself, and one little sock covered foot lifted up into the air, just waiting.

He blinks. “What is that?”

She doesn’t even look at him, just wiggles her toes inside the sock. “I want one.”

You crack an eye open. “What?”

She finally turns her head slightly, still holding her foot up like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Rub my foot.”

You laugh, you can’t help it.

Jack just stares at her for a second, then at the foot, then back at her. “…you’re wearing a sock.”

She shrugs. “Still.”

You’re laughing properly now, head tipping back again.

He huffs a quiet breath, but there’s no real fight in it. “Unbelievable,” he mutters, but he reaches out anyway, takes her little foot in his hand, gently tugging it closer.

She relaxes instantly, “Other one too,” she adds.

“Let’s start with this one,” he replies.

He works at it carefully, way gentler than with you, he’s not entirely sure how much pressure is too much. She lets out the tiniest sigh. “Yeah,” she says, eyes drifting shut. “That’s good.”

You look over at them, something soft settling in your chest. “She’s spoiled,” you murmur.

“She learned from you,” he shoots back.

She lifts her other foot slightly, not as high, just enough. Jack glances at it. “…absolutely not.”

She peeks one eye open. “Please.”

A beat, then he shakes his head, but he’s already reaching for it. “You’re both ridiculous,” he mutters.

You smile, because he says it like that, but he doesn’t stop.

Within minutes, she’s fully settled, both feet now in his lap, one hand still loosely holding onto your arm.

“Best night ever,” she mumbles, already half asleep.

Jack looks down at her, then over at you. “…I’m never getting off this couch, am I?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance.”